“He had come for her. He had promised everything was going to be okay, and he had come for her, and he had looked so crazy-sexy. No, monstrous. No, sexy. Oh damn.”

“He had looked so crazy, sexy. No, monstrous. No, sexy. Oh damn.”

“That may be so, but his faerie had suffered too much and he had had more than enough. If anybody so much as looked at her funny, he was going to come down hard on them with both size fourteen steel-toed boots. Then he would consider seriously the merits of evisceration.”

“Oh my God, not only is he older than the Grand Canyon, but he’s like the pope and the Fae King and the president of the United States all rolled up into one. To some ancient cultures he had been a god. He was going to hurt her so bad before he killed her so dead, and all she could think of was how hot his kiss had been in the dream and how delicate the touch of his finger was as it traced down her body.”

“Don’t sulk,” he told her. “It doesn’t become someone of your age.” She rolled her eyes even as, he was delighted to note, she kissed him back. “Oh, the age thing? You just had to go there, didn’t you?”

“What had he called himself? A stupid, crazy, illogical, senseless, rampantly jealous ass. Damn right, he was a stupid ass. . . .Wait, that wasn’t the relevant part she should remember.”

“He stared at her neck. Realization pulsed. He was looking at the bite he had given her. A hard length was growing against her hip. “So, is that your long, scaly, reptilian tail, or are you just happy to see me?” No, she did not just say that. Did she?”